


partner

by gonnapop



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Background Finnrey, Childbirth, Domestic Fluff, In-Laws, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Rey is happily adopted, Skywalker Family Drama, Skywalker Family Feels, Trans Armitage Hux, benarmie, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 06:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15504369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonnapop/pseuds/gonnapop
Summary: Weeks before the birth of his first child with Hux, Ben is called away to the other side of the galaxy.Rey promised to check in on her brother’s husband while Ben is away—after all, Hux is family now. She did not, however, sign up to be his impromptu birth partner.But when Hux goes into labor unexpectedly and Ben is unreachable, what choice does Rey have?





	partner

**Author's Note:**

> if you’re a regular reader of my work, please note that this isn’t a kinky fic, though it’s still definitely in my wheelhouse. this time around, I just wanted to write a fluffy, goofy, sort of domestic scenario.
> 
> I also wanted to play around with Rey and Hux—I watched [a bunch of Daisy and Domhnall’s interviews](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jkwJkqKjt9Y) the other day, and they’re stupidly cute together. putting them in a situation where they have to trust each other and maybe bond seemed like fun.
> 
>  **content warnings:** this fic features Hux as a pregnant dfab trans man (not really a fan of assbabies). there are some frank references to dfab anatomy, as well as a vaginal birth scene, but nothing graphic or explicit.
> 
> toward the end of the fic, there is a brief discussion of miscarriage/previous pregnancy loss.
> 
> I understand this may not work for all readers. I want to minimize the chances of someone being inadvertently triggered while reading, so please mind the tags, consider how they might interact with your own triggers/sensitivities, and read safely.

Rey had just returned home to Chandrila after her freshman year at the University of Commenor. She was looking forward to catching up with her family and whiling away the days until Finn—her boyfriend, who hailed from Naboo—could come planetside to visit. But her life was rarely that simple. Sudden complications, she’d found, were just part of being an Organa.

Shortly after Rey arrived on Chandrila, Leia learned that Han’s most recent “business trip” was, in fact, a smuggling run—and it had gone sideways. He’d landed in hot water again, this time with both Kanjiklub and the Guavian Death Gang. Almost as soon as they got word, Ben and Chewie rushed off to bail him out of trouble, one way or another. There was no other choice.

None of them were especially worried about Han at this point. Ben would take care of it; he always did. But the timing wasn’t great: Ben’s husband was thirty-eight weeks pregnant and due any day.

Where he and Chewie were going, they would be essentially incommunicado—any transmissions would take hours to reach them, and vice versa. To that end, before going offworld, Ben had tasked Rey with a mission of her own: check in on Hux while he was away.

As Rey understood it, her job was to make sure Hux didn’t overwork himself in Ben’s absence. It was a real possibility: She knew Hux to be a goal-oriented person who liked to be productive at all times, and that hadn’t changed when he became pregnant. In fact, he only started medical leave last week, at Ben’s insistence. (Apparently he had planned to work until his due date—and his job had him on his feet all day, for long hours.) By now, Hux was probably bored out of his mind and looking for a way to occupy himself until the baby came.

The household protocol droid answered the door.

“Kayfour,” Rey said. The droid was an older model, one Hux had owned for many years and apparently refused to part with. “Is Armie home?”

“Miss Rey, welcome,” the droid burbled.

Rey found him in the nursery, painting the rear wall a soft green color. The space was pretty bare-bones, without decoration, and would remain so until after the baby was born. The crib and bassinet were still in their boxes, unopened; the dresser was presumably empty. At the sound of her footsteps, Hux turned.

“Armie! You got huge,” Rey exclaimed, looking him up and down. She hadn’t seen him in a few months, since Life Day, and while she knew intellectually that he would be bigger, somehow she hadn’t anticipated what a shock it would be to see Hux—her brother’s narrow, sharp-boned husband—with a round belly that his paint-splattered shirt just barely contained. Ben wasn’t kidding: He really did look like he could have the baby any time.

“Would you like to make any other painfully obvious statements?” Hux gave her a flat look.

Rey coughed a little. “Ben asked me to come by,” she said, a general defense against any criticism.

“Yes, I remember. As you can see, I haven’t expired.”

Crossing the room, Rey glanced at the paint cans and the tray on the floor. “Should you be inhaling paint fumes, in your… condition?”

“The paint is nontoxic and the room is well-ventilated,” Hux said crisply, turning his attention to a bare patch of the wall. “For pity’s sake, you sound like Ben.”

She smiled at the comparison; Hux was always saying she and Ben were alike, though she didn’t really see it herself. “I bet you can’t wait to get that baby out of you,” she commented, as he carefully bent over to dip the roller in paint. His center of gravity was different, lower, which made it an effort. By the looks of him—waddling like he had a grav-ball between his legs, clearly uncomfortable—it wouldn’t be long. “Mom thinks you should come stay with us for a few days, until Ben gets back.”

Hux made a strangled noise that might’ve been a scoff or a laugh.

“What?” Rey asked. “She doesn’t think you should be alone when you’re about to have the baby.”

“I’m not having it for another two weeks, so she can relax,” he replied primly.

Rey hummed. “Ben says you could go off any day.”

“He’s overreacting, as usual.”

“All the same, he wanted me to check on you,” she said. “See if you need anything.”

“That’s what the droid is for.”

“Well, now you have the droid and me to help take care of things. Think of how productive we’ll be,” Rey said, grabbing a second paint roller, which made him laugh for some reason. She dipped the roller in paint and started applying it to a bare patch of wall. “Anyway, you’re lucky it’s me and not my mother. You’d go mad in an hour, with all her fussing.”

Hux glanced at her sidelong. “Really,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, really.”

He huffed. “There’s no need to preserve my feelings,” he said. “I know Leia doesn’t like me. She still wishes Ben had married Poe Dameron.”

Rey pretended to be shocked by that suggestion. “What? No, that’s not true at all,” she said quickly. Admittedly, Leia wasn’t Hux’s biggest fan; sometimes Rey thought they clashed because they were too alike. But she had warmed to him over the years—and especially in recent months. “She’s really excited about the baby.”

“Oh, I’m sure she is. She’s been much more cordial ever since she found out I’m carrying her grandchild,” Hux said, rolling his eyes.

“She’s been buying loads of baby things. Seriously, you’ll be set for clothes for a year at least.”

“I’ve asked her not to.” His tone was disapproving, and Rey knew why. In his culture, it was considered bad luck to buy or make gifts for an unborn child—tempting fate, or something like that. For that reason, Hux had refused to have a baby shower (much to Rey’s chagrin) or to accept any gifts before the birth. He was also unwilling to assemble the crib before the baby came home, or to decorate the nursery beyond a fresh coat of paint.

Rey thought it was a little strange; until now, she’d never known Hux to be a superstitious person. He scoffed at the Force, and yet he was tying himself in knots over Arkanisian taboos.

“She does it because she cares,” Rey told him. Then she nudged him with her elbow. “Besides, she won’t actually give you anything until after the baby’s born. I think she wants to have a party—like a belated baby shower. Won’t that be fun?”

Hux grimaced and kept painting.

 

***

 

After an hour of painting, Rey ordered Mandalorian food and settled in to watch a holodrama on the sofa, putting her feet up on the coffee table.

Hux looked at her with a sigh. “Rey, there’s a lot left to do around here. You can stay for lunch, but I don’t have time to entertain you all day.”

“Baby’s not coming for two weeks, remember?” she asked, and patted the seat beside her. “Come watch HoloTV.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Hux joined her. (It had to be a relief to get off his feet, which were obviously swollen, but he didn’t let it show, and Rey made no comment.) “Just until the food gets here,” he said.

By that time, they’d watched two episodes of “Ryloth Place,” and Rey was attempting to convince Hux that they’d done enough for today. There was no need to launder all the sheets again, or deep clean the bathroom, or rearrange the furniture for the third time. He was a tough sell—his nesting instinct was going wild, she sensed, telling him to do something, anything, all the time—but he was also exhausted, and possibly a little lonely without Ben around.

Spending time together like this was comfortable, familiar. Rey liked Hux; she always had, though she found him a little stiff and unfunny. Over the years, he’d become something like a second, weirder big brother. She even used to stay over at the home he shared with Ben occasionally, when she wasn’t getting along with her parents as a younger teenager.

She met Hux a few weeks before her fourteenth birthday, when Ben brought him around the family home on Chandrila. The circumstances weren’t ideal: Ben had just loudly announced his engagement to a man they’d never heard of, who he’d met just four months prior. Leia was skeptical to put it mildly, and Han, anticipating disaster, wanted little to do with it. (His mantra in those early days was that Leia should let Ben make his own mistakes.)

While Ben and Leia argued in the sitting room, Hux slipped into the kitchen, where Rey sat at the table, methodically taking apart an old mouse droid. Awkwardly, he sat across from Rey and asked about her little programming project, which she was eager to discuss. When she explained a problem she’d been struggling with, he showed her how to fix it. Though Hux worked in high-end catering—that was how he and Ben met, at some luncheon Leia had forced Ben to attend—he was also something of a tinkerer. That was enough to endear Rey to him; she was willing to give him a chance.

Hux and Ben were married two months after that unpleasant family introduction; they had known each other for just six months. Almost seven years later, they were still married, happy by all accounts, and expecting a child. Despite her initial misgivings, Leia had come to accept Hux, and the two of them came to a truce. Ben never used to smile the way he did for Hux.

“Do you know what you’ll call her?” Rey asked, after a few more episodes had passed.

“We haven’t settled on a name,” Hux said. The taboo again, Rey assumed—he probably thought it was unlucky to name a baby before the birth. “And who says it’s a girl?”

“Oh, she is. I can tell. Hasn’t Ben said anything?”

Hux shook his head. “You know I don’t believe in that.”

“But you’ve seen Ben use the Force,” she insisted. “And me. And Luke. How can you say you don’t believe in it?”

“That’s different. Obviously, you can use the Force to make things float—that’s indisputable. But I have no reason to believe you can predict the future.”

His understanding of the Force was woefully incomplete, Rey thought, but she wasn’t about to argue with him. “You’ll see,” she told him instead, and reached over to pat his belly. “She’s a girl.”

Hux glared at her until she retracted her hand. “Don’t do that again,” he said.

“Stars, just being friendly,”  Rey muttered, slumping lower into the sofa. “You know, when you and Ben got married, it was so sudden that we assumed you must be pregnant. My parents thought so, anyway.”

“Did they really?”

She nodded. “We were all waiting for you to get fat,” she said, which actually made him laugh. “Took you long enough to get started—you’ve been married forever.”

“There’s more to married life than procreation, you know,” Hux said with a frown.

“I know that. But even after you decided to have a baby, you waited ages to tell anyone.”

“We were waiting on the anatomy scan, that’s all,” he replied, somewhat defensively. He touched his belly in what looked like an unconscious gesture. “It seemed better to wait until we knew it was healthy before making any big announcements.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Rey said, though in truth, it still seemed unusual. She’d never heard of someone keeping a pregnancy under wraps for so long—almost six months, in Hux’s case.

The whole situation was probably stressful for Hux, of course, what with the matter of lineage. This baby would be a little princess: the future of the House of Organa, the heir that many thousands of people who had survived Alderaan’s destruction had hoped for ever since Ben’s wedding. After the pregnancy was announced, there were celebrations aboard the Alderanian space station that orbited the void where the planet used to be. Congratulatory messages had poured in, most of them funneled through Leia’s assistants.

Ben was the last prince of a lost world; he’d spent a lifetime balancing the weight of his people’s expectations, their needs, their hopes. Even if he didn’t like it all the time, at least he was used to it. Hux, on the other hand, was not. Beyond the often uncomfortable trappings of royalty—the dinners, and the festivals, and the memorials—he was unprepared for the level of interest that Ben’s celebrity would generate. Possibly he hadn’t realized that it would grow to encompass him, as well.

Holos of the two of them honeymooning on Canto Bight had appeared in the sludgenews: Hux and Ben on a hotel balcony that faced a private beach, in a state of undress. Hux was mortified; he couldn’t so much as look at the HoloNet for weeks without seeing the pictures floating around. Overall, neither the press nor the public looked kindly upon the magazine that ran the holos—it was seen as a gross invasion of privacy, and even as an insult to Leia, who was well-respected throughout the galaxy—but there was no making the images disappear.

Perhaps the worst part was that the holos sparked greater interest in Hux. Before long, the whole galaxy knew that he was Brendol Hux’s bastard, which only fueled more speculation about him and his relationship with Ben. It never ended, not really.

Rey understood where he was coming from. For Ben, this had always been his life—but for Rey, there was a time before. She was seven years old when she was adopted, and she remembered how hard it was in the beginning, how strange: new family, new traditions, new pressures. It was disorienting. She’d gone through an adjustment period, and so had Hux when he married Ben. Now that there was a baby on the way, he was learning to navigate another part of his life.

 

***

 

_Rey was only home for the holiday. In a few days, she would go back to school—back to Finn—but for now, she would enjoy the time she had with her family._

_The annual Life Day party was in full swing; soon it would be time to light the tree. Rey wove through the room, past many familiar faces, until she found the one she was looking for._

_Hux sat by himself, on the far side of the room, sipping a bubbly pink concoction. It wasn’t surprising for him to take a break from the activity, but normally Ben would be with him. They often kept to themselves at big gatherings like this, their heads bent toward each other like a pair of moons that shared an orbit. But Ben had been bouncing around the party all night, somewhat restless, in an uncommonly good mood. Rey couldn’t guess what had gotten into him, but she liked to see him happy._

_“Hey. Brought your favorite,” Rey said with a wink, placing a sapphire fogblaster in front of Hux._

_He smiled politely as she dropped into the seat beside him, but shook his head. “I’m all right, thanks. Maybe your mother would like it instead.”_

_“In that case, you should be the one to give it to her,” she replied, and they shared a laugh. It was no secret that Leia hated fogblasters; she only ordered them when she wanted a drink to nurse for a long time. “But really, what gives? You’ve been drinking swirlydips all night.”_

_“I happen to like swirlydips,” Hux said primly. He took another drink, as if to prove it._

_Rey scoffed. “I liked them, too, when I was twelve,” she said. Swirlydips were tooth-rottingly sweet and nonalcoholic. She paused. “Should I leave? Do you want to be alone right now?”_

_“What?” The question seemed to take him aback. “No, no, stay. Tell me about school. How’s your High Galactic Literature course?”_

_Though she still felt uncertain, Rey obliged, going on about her classes and professors. She told him about the campus, and her annoying roommate, and the little cantina where she liked to go with her friends. All the while, he nodded along, listening, but his eyes were on the people milling around under the cheerful holiday lights: their family and friends. He seemed distracted, his mind elsewhere._

_“Armie, are you all right?” Rey asked after a while._

_He glanced at her. “Of course. Why?”_

_“I don’t know. You just seem… different.” It was his demeanor, partly: sitting alone, drinking swirlydips, which he’d never done before. Then there was his appearance. In the months since Rey left for school, he’d put on weight; though he was wearing a poncho over his tunic tonight, which hid his body somewhat, she could tell. But more than all that, it was his presence in the Force—different, pulsing, in a way she couldn’t quite explain. All the changes worried her. Suppressing a grimace, Rey asked, “You’re not sick or something, are you?”_

_“Sick? Oh, no, nothing like that.” Hux hesitated, shifting a little in his seat. “As a matter of fact, I’m—”_

_He stopped short when Ben appeared, bending to wrap his arms around Hux’s shoulders from behind. “How about now?” Ben asked, his mouth close to Hux’s ear, though he didn’t bother to whisper._

_“Now?” Hux seemed to suppress a grimace. When he reached up to touch Ben’s wrist, his plain silver wedding band caught the light. “I thought we agreed to wait for the right moment.”_

_“Moment’s right. I’ve got a good feeling.”_

_“I don’t know…”_

_“Come on, I want to do it before we light the tree. And before my dad gets too drunk.”_

_“Oh, all right,” Hux said with a sigh. “Get it over with.”_

_“Like ripping off a bacta patch,” Ben said, smiling, and kissed him on the cheek. He straightened, put one hand to his mouth, and whistled loudly._

_Overlapping conversations faded away, though Life Day carols continued to play in the background, as the group turned to focus on Ben._

_“If I could have your attention, please—yeah, yeah, I see you, Snap. You can get back to losing at sabaac in a minute,” Ben said. There was laughter as Snap grinned and made a rude gesture. “So it’s Life Day again, and we’re all together to celebrate… a whole bunch of things. The past. The future. Kes Dameron’s absolutely unreal sashin-leaf mead.”_

_While Kes raised his glass in a kind of salute, to scattered applause, Chewie rumbled happily._

_“Yeah, Uncle Chewie, you’re right—family,” Ben said, smiling. He placed his hands on Hux’s shoulders and gave a reassuring squeeze. “That’s what Life Day’s all about. So it seems like as good a time as any to let you all know that Hux and I are having a baby.”_

_There was half a second of shocked silence before Wedge yelled, “About time!” Then the rest of the group broke into cheers and whistles and congratulatory shouts._

_Rey whirled toward Hux. “Are you really?”_

_“Swirlydips,” he said, lifting his glass. “You’re going to be an aunt.”_

_She screamed and threw her arms around him, with enough force that he was rocked backward. “Armie, I can’t believe it! I was afraid you had a tumor or something,” she babbled. “I thought you were dying!”_

_“Rey, please, you’re crushing me,” he said, but he was laughing. “I’m in a delicate condition—”_

_“Right, right…” She leaned back carefully, so she wouldn’t jostle him._

_“And here we thought you were just getting fat,” Poe called, which prompted laughter from the group. Rose playfully smacked the back of Poe’s head in admonishment; he batted her hand away with an easy grin. “Kidding, kidding. Come on, Hux, it’s a joke, don’t give me that look—”_

_Possibly to distract him, Ben pulled Hux to his feet and kissed him on the mouth; when they broke apart, they were both beaming. Sometimes the way they looked at each other, like the rest of the galaxy didn’t exist, was nauseating to watch, but just now, Rey thought it was sweet. Ever since she met Finn, she’d found herself more tolerant of soppy displays of affection._

_Leia glided over to them, with Han beside her. “Oh, Ben,” she said warmly, embracing him, while Han clapped him on the back. Leia pulled back and looked up at him with a smile. “Congratulations. I had a feeling, but I didn’t want to presume.”_

_Ben huffed. “You’ve never not presumed in your life,” he said._

_Ignoring him, Leia turned to Hux. “When are you due?”_

_“Around the end of Month Six,” he said._

_Leia seemed to run a quick mental calculation; then her eyebrows arched. “How far along are you?”_

_“Twenty-two weeks.”_

_“You’ve been pregnant for almost six months and didn’t tell anyone?”_

_“Just waiting for the right time,” Ben said, putting an arm around his husband’s waist and settling a hand on his hip. “We might’ve waited longer, but Hux is getting pretty big, so…” He shrugged._

_“Ben!” Hux and Leia said in unison, sharply._

_“What? You_ are _getting big,” Ben said. “That poncho barely hides anything.”_

_“Ben,” Han said with a groan. “Take your foot out, will you?”_

_Rey couldn’t help it—she laughed. What a family._

 

***

 

Around midnight, Rey was home alone. Leia’s dinner with a few of her senate colleagues—a group of friends, political allies and those who had the potential to become both—was running late, so Leia might not be back at all tonight; sometimes she slept over at the hotel where these dinners were usually hosted. She hadn’t heard from Ben or Chewie, either, though they were far enough away that any message they sent would take hours to reach Chandrila. With nothing else to do, she was lying about in her bedroom, holochatting with Finn.

It was midday on Naboo, so he was wide awake, while Rey’s eyes were just beginning to droop. As it turned out, keeping a heavily-pregnant Hux off his feet and doing only relaxing activities was kind of exhausting.

“I can’t wait for you to visit,” Rey said, leaning her chin on her hand. “The time difference is killing me.”

“Just a few more weeks, and I’ll be free as a pelikki,” Finn said. “Or maybe you can come see me. Have you ever been to Naboo?”

“A couple of times, as a kid. Beautiful planet. We just did the touristy stuff—saw the palace, you know.”

“Except it was a private tour, right?” he asked knowingly, and she wrinkled her nose. He knew as well as anyone else that Rey’s grandmother through adoption was a queen and senator of Naboo. She tried not to let it affect her daily life too much, or how she comported herself. “Listen, if you come out here, we won’t do any of that fancy royal stuff. I’ll show you the real Naboo, where I’m from.”

Rey beamed. “That sounds wonderful,” she said. Suddenly her comm blinked. She didn’t recognize the number, but the little red priority icon was flashing. “Hold on, I’m getting another comm. Call you back?”

“Sure. Love you,” Finn said.

“Love you, too.” Rey answered the incoming comm, and to her surprise, a familiar droid appeared on the screen. “Kayfour?” she asked, blinking. Never before had she received a comm from Ben and Hux’s household droid. “What’s going on? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I apologize for the lateness of the hour, Miss Rey,” Kayfour said, in a neutral voice. “But Master Ben has instructed me to contact you in the event that Master Armitage shows signs of labor.”

“Me?” When the rest of the droid’s words registered, Rey sat up, almost dropping her comlink in her haste. “Wait, did you say Armie’s in labor?”

“I am not a medidroid, miss, but I suspect so.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?” she sputtered.

“Take Master Armitage to the medcenter, if you would be so kind.”

“Can’t you call a speeder for him?” That seemed like the most obvious solution.

Kayfour hesitated. “I’m afraid that he is being… somewhat uncooperative, miss,” the droid said, delicately. “He insists that he is not in labor.”

Rey frowned. That sounded like Hux—he was even more stubborn than Ben sometimes, though this seemed like a bad time to dig in his heels. She wasn’t sure that she was the right person to handle this situation. But apparently Ben had trusted her to get Hux safely to the medcenter in his absence, and she hadn’t failed in her sisterly duties so far. “Oh, all right,” she said at last. “Hang tight. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

 

***

 

Kayfour seemed anxious when she let Rey into the house, the way Threepio got sometimes when things weren’t going the way he’d planned.

“Where is he?” Rey asked. Normally, she took off her boots at the door—Hux was particular about no shoes in his house—but just this once, she didn’t bother. They would be leaving soon.

Before the droid could answer, a voice called from the other side of the house: “Ben, is that you?”

“Afraid not,” Rey called back. He must’ve heard her speeder pulling up and thought his husband had returned. She crossed the sitting room and turned into the hall, just as Hux was exiting the bedroom.

He looked more disheveled than Rey had ever seen him, in sweatpants and a loose old shirt that she recognized as Ben’s. Though Hux would normally be swimming in that shirt—Ben was much broader than he was, though they were about the same height—it was taut across the middle, the soft dark fabric clinging to his rounded belly. “What are you doing here?”

“Kayfour called me. She says you’re in labor but won’t go to the medcenter.”

Hux sputtered. “You’ve been misinformed,” he said, shooting a dark look at Kayfour, who appeared about as bashful as a droid could. “I am not in labor. I’m not due for another two weeks.”

“Mom says that practically nobody has their baby on their actual due date—it’s just an estimate.”

“That may be, but I’m afraid you came all this way for nothing. Kayfour is a little excitable, that’s all—” He broke off with a grimace, pressing one hand against the wall and the other against his belly. Rey froze, unsure of what to do. It went on for almost a minute.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice jumping an octave, when Hux started to breathe more normally.

“Practice contraction,” he said shakily. “I’ve been having them off and on for weeks. It’s nothing.”

She was dubious. “That didn’t look like nothing.”

“He has been having contractions for hours,” Kayfour said to Rey, ignoring Hux’s warning glare. “They have increased in length and frequency. By my count, the contractions are now close to five minutes apart.”

“Practice contractions,” Hux said again, stiffly, and brushed past Rey and Kayfour. He walked slowly toward the kitchen, in obvious discomfort, one hand braced against his lower back. “Isn’t it a little late for you to be out? Where’s your mother?”

“She’s at a dinner,” Rey said. She assumed Hux really wanted to know whether or not Leia was aware of the situation. “Political thing. Schmoozing, you know. And I’m nineteen—I can be out as late as I like.”

Hux pulled a water bottle out of the conservator. As he took a few sips, Rey noticed that he looked a little sweaty and flushed, though the house was fairly cool. “I appreciate your concern. But it’s late, and I am not having the baby tonight, so you should go—” He cried out as another contraction nearly doubled him over, grabbing the edge of the counter to steady himself and nearly dropping the plastic bottle in his hand.

“That’s it,” Rey announced. “You’re going to the medcenter.”

Once he could breathe again, Hux looked affronted. “I most certainly am not.”

For the life of her, Rey couldn’t understand why he was being so obstinate. “You can let me drive you, or I can call an ambulance,” she said, undeterred. “Your choice.”

He stared at her for a long moment, jaw tight. Then he seemed to realize she was serious. “They’ll send me right back home,” he warned. “Because I’m not in labor.”

“Fine by me,” Rey replied gamely. “Have you got a bag packed?”

 

***

 

Naturally, he’d had a bag ready for weeks, though he hadn’t expected to need it so soon. Rey tossed it into the back of the speeder while Hux, looking deeply put-upon, eased himself into the passenger seat.

After Hux told Rey which medcenter he was registered at, she switched on the radio, in the hopes of making the drive less uncomfortable for both of them. Coruscant’s newest hits piped softly through the speakers as she wove expertly through the late-night traffic. She noticed Hux tensing at intervals, shifting in his seat, breathing hard through his nose as he rode out one contraction at a time. It made her drive a little faster.

Rey hurried to explain to the Balosar at the front desk that her brother-in-law was about to have a baby. Things happened quickly after that. A nurse took one look at Hux and insisted on putting him on a hover chair before moving him out of the waiting room; apparently she’d seen her share of laboring humans and could tell he was in a bad way. Hux found this treatment embarrassing, but Rey thought it was probably a good precaution.

They had to wait a while before a doctor could see Hux, though at least it was in a curtained-off area, so they had some privacy. In the meantime, Rey helped Hux fill out the rest of the paperwork, inputting the information for him. (She didn’t see the point of preregistering at a medcenter if you had to do the paperwork over again, but there was nothing for it.) A doctor arrived at last, and Rey ducked outside the privacy curtains while Hux was examined. She took the opportunity to send Ben a brief message, telling him to clean up Han’s mess and get home immediately.

Unsurprisingly, Hux was far enough into labor that he had to be admitted. By the time he’d been fully checked in and moved to the labor ward, it was after two in the morning. Rey was exhausted, but at least the private delivery room had plenty of comfortable seating. She placed Hux’s bag on the sofa beside her while a nurse, a pretty blush-pink Twi’lek, used a stylus to make a few more notes in Hux’s chart.

“Our policy is to allow a maximum of two support people in the room during labor,” the nurse said. “I see you’ve got one already. Will your partner be here, as well? He’s listed on your forms.”

“Oh, he’s not around,” Rey said, which made the nurse’s mouth pinch. “He left recently. We’re not sure where he is.”

Hux made a choked noise. “My husband is offworld, on business,” he said quickly.

“I understand.” The nurse’s voice was soft and compassionate.

Once they were alone again, Hux grimaced. “Wonderful. Now that nurse thinks your brother is some kind of deadbeat,” he said irritably.

“I’m sure she doesn’t. And don’t give me that look,” Rey said, when Hux leveled a muted glare at her. He’d changed into a pale blue medcenter gown that made him look somewhat less sharp and intimidating than usual. “Would you have preferred to have your baby in the kitchen? Because that’s what would’ve happened, if I hadn’t dragged you here.” She suppressed a yawn. “Anyway, I messaged Ben. If we’re lucky, he’ll be on his way home by the time he gets the transmission. In the meantime, who else should I call?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Who do you want to be here with you?”

Hux blinked. “Oh. There’s nobody,” he said. “So you can go ahead and leave.”

That gave Rey pause. “Nobody?” she repeated. “Don’t you have—I don’t know, some kind of support person? A labor coach or something?”

He shook his head. “That’s supposed to be Ben’s job.”

“Ben, really?”

“He read about a dozen books. We took a class.”

“Huh.” She struggled to picture her brother willingly participating in a birth class. But then again, she reminded herself, Hux’s Ben was different than her Ben. She didn’t know what their relationship was like behind closed doors. “Well, surely you have a friend who can come by.”

Rey knew better than to ask after his family—Hux’s mother died unexpectedly the year after he married Ben, his father was estranged (Rey once overheard Leia speculating that Hux’s father used to beat him), and he had no siblings, cousins or extended relations. All he had was Ben, and the rest of Ben’s family: the Skywalker-Organa-Solos, with whom he wasn’t especially close. Hux and Ben were sort of like a self-contained unit, a little world unto themselves.

“No, Rey, I’m afraid not,” he said, sounding annoyed now, like he thought Rey was criticizing him.

“Well, that’s no good,” Rey concluded. “I guess I’m staying, then.”

“What?” His eyes widened in something like panic. “No, no, Rey, you should go. There’s no need—”

“You can’t have a baby by yourself,” she said adamantly.

“And I won’t. I’ll be surrounded by medical professionals—”

“Strangers! What if you’re incapacitated, or you need help, or something? Who’s going to stick up for you?”

“Highly unlikely—”

“Ben asked me to take care of you. He’d kill me if he found I just abandoned you here in the middle of the night,” Rey said, and the look on his face let her know he realized she was right. “And my mother would be appalled. What do you think she’d say, if I commed her right now?”

Hux’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Armie, listen,” she said with a sigh. “I know you’re afraid.”

He huffed. “Really, Rey, I don’t think—”

“I can sense it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she added quickly, knowing he would take it as another criticism. Fear wasn’t weakness; it was only natural. But she got the sense that Hux hated others to see his vulnerabilities. “Of course you want Ben here, but I’m who you’ve got. So will you let me help you, or will you make me sit in the waiting room all night?”

For half a minute, they just stared at each other, unyielding. But at last, he relented. “Oh, all right,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You can stay here, but you have to promise not to get in the way or cause trouble.”

“Who, me?” Rey asked with a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”

 

***

 

“So what’s the plan?” Finn asked.

Rey was slumped in a hard plastic chair in the corridor, speaking with a miniature blue-toned hologram of Finn; it showed him from the chest up, projected from her datapad. She’d stepped out of the room for a few minutes, to get some air and maybe something to eat, while Hux rested. “I’ll stick around for the time being,” she said to Finn. “You know, keep him company.”

“And do what?”

“I don’t know. The birth partner thing?”

Finn squinted at her. “Are you qualified to do that?”

“Not really,” Rey said. “Okay, not at all. But he hasn’t got anyone else—no friends he can comm, nobody. It’s pretty sad, actually.”

“Well, yeah. But I’m not totally sure it’s your responsibility to handle it.”

“I know it’s not. But he’s family, Finn. I wouldn’t feel right just leaving him,” she said. “And he can’t have a baby by himself, can he?”

“See, that’s why I love you,” Finn said, shaking his head. “You’re a better person than me.”

Rey made a face. “Completely untrue. I’m a deeply flawed and petty person, but you love me in spite of all that.”

That just made him smile. “I do,” he said. “I really do.”

 

***

 

At this time of the night, the cafeteria was quiet and mostly empty. Only a few weary-looking beings were scattered about, making calls or slowly eating the soup of the day.

Rey figured she’d need sustenance, since she planned to be here for at least a few hours. She was carefully balancing three plastic-wrapped sandwiches in the crook of one elbow while she dumped sugar into a steaming cup of caf with her free hand when she sensed a familiar presence behind her: “Rey?”

“Poe,” she said, surprised. Turning, she saw him approaching her. He looked a little washed-out under the white cafeteria lights. “What’re you doing here?”

Poe Dameron had been part of Rey’s life ever since she joined the family, a permanent fixture. His parents had fought alongside Leia, Han and Luke during the war. He and Ben practically grew up together. The two of them even dated for a couple of years when they were teenagers, and remained friendly after the breakup. For years, Leia had held onto a not-entirely-private hope that they would reconcile; she adored Poe, as did Han.

Of course, Ben went on to marry Hux, much to Leia’s chagrin. Poe had been cordial to Hux from the beginning, welcoming him into the fold—so naturally, Hux hated him. Though he’d never said so outright, Rey sensed that Hux was resentful of Poe’s easy charm, his past with Ben, his closeness with the family. Part of him worried that Ben would wake up one day and realize that Poe was who he’d belonged with all along.

“Funny story. We got together for drinks, just casual,” Poe said now, pointing to a circular table nearby, where Jessika Pava and the Tico sisters sat together, eating vending-machine snacks. When Rose noticed Rey, she gave a cheerful little wave. “And, well, Snap had a little too much. Tripped over a curb and split his forehead open.”

“Is he all right?”

“Sure, sure. Karé’s with him. It looks worse than it is—head wounds bleed like crazy. A little bacta should take care of it, then we’ll take him home and call it a night. What about you?” Poe clapped her on the shoulder, giving her a warm, supportive look. “You know I always like to see you, but I wasn’t expecting to bump into you here. Everything okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s just…” Rey hesitated, unsure of how much information she should share, even more unsure of how she could avoid sharing it. “You know how Ben’s offworld for a few days? Bad timing, it turns out. I had to give Armie a ride to the medcenter.”

When Poe grinned, his dark eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re kidding. He’s having the baby?” Suddenly he turned to the circular table, calling out to Paige, Rose and Jess: “Hey, guys, Hux is having the baby!”

That earned a smattering of applause and a full-mouthed whoop from Jess. It made sense that they would be excited, since they were all friends with Ben. They attended most of the extended-family gatherings, too, since Rey’s parents’ war buddies were basically aunts and uncles to her and Ben, and their kids were like cousins. Ben and Hux were also the first of their age group to have any children, which made it a little more special.

“Well, not right now,” Rey said quickly, not wanting them to get the wrong idea. “It could be hours and hours.”

“Yeah, of course, it takes as long as it takes,” Poe agreed. “So where is he?”

“They put him in a room. I just stepped out for a minute to grab some food,” she said, lifting her caf in one hand. She had the sandwiches balanced in the crook of her other arm.

“Gotcha. Here, let me help you with that.” He took the sandwiches from her, so she was no longer juggling them with a hot cup of caf. “Now, which room did you say it was?”

Somewhat helplessly—she had never really been in a position where she needed to tell him no and wasn’t quite sure how to begin—Rey allowed Poe to tail her back to Hux’s room. She poked her head in, a little anxious, before stepping inside. She didn’t see Hux anywhere, but he couldn’t have gotten far.

The ‘fresher door slid open with a soft hiss, and Hux waddled carefully into the room, barefoot, looking tired and unhappy. Almost immediately, he noticed Rey—and then Poe edged around her, over the threshold, sandwiches raised in greeting.

“Hux! Oh, man, look at you!” Poe made a sweeping gesture that encompassed Hux’s entire gown-clad body. “Just wanted to say hey, and also congratulations. Baby time already, I can’t believe it—”

In the space of a moment, Hux’s expression cycled from confusion, to shock, to apoplexy. He whipped his head toward Rey. “Did you call him? Why in the kriffing hells would you do that—”

“I didn’t call him!” Rey said quickly. “He was already here. Snap busted his head open—”

“What?” Hux blinked, then seemed to decide it didn’t matter. He looked at Poe. “Leave. Immediately.”

Poe lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. “Hey, buddy, no need to bite my head off.”

Rey was attempting to herd Poe back into the corridor without looking too desperate. “Maybe now isn’t the best time for a visit,” she said, her voice thin and tense. Because she was facing away from Hux, it was safe to shoot Poe a pleading look: _Save yourself while you still can._

“I’m kind of getting that sense,” he said warily, backing up.

“So glad you understand. Tell Snap to be more careful, will you?”

“You got it,” Poe said. He glanced over Rey’s shoulder at Hux, gave him an awkward little wave. “And, uh, congrats again. Good luck.”

With that, he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the corridor. Rey let out a slow sigh of relief, then braced herself before facing Hux again.

She’d expected him to look furious—but to her surprise, he just looked hurt, like she’d betrayed him. And, well, she supposed she had. Hux was tired, and stressed, and in pain, and instead of defending his privacy at a vulnerable time, Rey had allowed Poe to barge into his room.

“I think you should join him outside,” Hux said in a low voice, and waddled to the bed.

Rey winced. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear,” she said quickly. “I’m really sorry, Armie. You know how Poe is. He just invites himself along, doesn’t think things through. But he means well.”

“Like hell he does,” Hux muttered. “How can it be that I’m the only person not utterly charmed by him? Poe Dameron is a wily little slime-snake, and I—” He broke off with a low groan, clenching his teeth as another contraction peaked. “Stars, you couldn’t have told him no, for once in your life?”

She grimaced. “I smuggled you a sandwich,” she said, hoping to distract him. “Since the nurses won’t let you eat. Just don’t tell anybody you had it.”

For a second, he just glowered at her. Then, somewhat grudgingly, he accepted one of the sandwiches and quickly unpeeled the clear plastic wrap. “Why did you get three?” he asked.

“Oh. Two of them are for me,” Rey admitted. “I’m really hungry.”

He gave a disbelieving little huff.

Shortly after, Hux directed Rey to look in his bag for a copy of a single-page document that outlined his birth plan. If she was going to stick around, he said, she ought to have a basic idea of what was going to happen. Ben was familiar with this plan and all the reasonings behind it, presumably, and equipped to carry it out. But Rey had to wrap her head around it in a hurry.

Most of it was pretty self explanatory. For instance, Hux planned to have an unmedicated labor, and he was determined to give birth vaginally, unless there was an emergency. He didn’t want any medical students in the room. Barring complications, he wanted to hold the baby immediately after birth and breastfeed as soon as possible. All of that made sense to Rey. She could easily reiterate what Hux wanted to the medical staff if he was unable to.

Other notes in the plan were more mysterious. Hux had to explain to her what an episiotomy was; Rey was aghast that such a thing was even done. She also didn’t know what he meant by “delayed cord clamping,” or “immediate skin-to-skin,” or anything about placentas, but rather than bother him with more questions, she pulled out her datapad and furtively searched the HoloNet for answers. It was illuminating to say the least. (Meanwhile, Finn had been bombarding her with articles with tips about being a good birth partner. Skimming them would have to do.)

“The nurse said walking around should help you progress faster,” Rey pointed out, after Hux’s second pelvic exam. Apparently he was dilating more slowly than expected, though the baby wasn’t in any kind of distress. “And it might make the contractions less painful.”

“I heard her, yes.” Hux was reclining in bed, his eyes shut in what looked like concentration.

“So you’re just… not going to do that?”

“That’s the idea.”

“Why not? Don’t you want to get the baby out?”

“I told you, I’m not having the baby tonight,” Hux said, sounding resolute.

Rey’s eyes widened as it clicked. He didn’t want to do anything to speed up the labor so Ben would have more time to get here. “I know you don’t want Ben to miss it,” she said delicately. “And I’m no expert, obviously. But I’m pretty sure you can’t just—hold it in.”

“Not with that attitude,” he replied.

Suddenly Rey looked up, a chill running up her back.

“What?” Hux’s voice was sharp with concern. Though he claimed not to believe in the more mystical side of the Force, he certainly paid attention when she or Ben claimed to feel something. “What’s happening?”

“I felt a great disturbance in the Force,” she said slowly, which made Hux’s frown deepen. Then her eyes widened as she turned to the door, a moment before someone appeared there. “Oh. Hi, Mom.”

Leia had apparently just come from dinner—she was dressed in a simple yet elegant suit. It didn’t look ideal for the hospital, but Rey knew that her mother could make any clothes work in any situation. “Poe commed me. He wanted to offer his congratulations,” she said, by way of greeting. She shot Rey a brief, disapproving look. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come immediately.”

“It happened so fast, there hasn’t really been time to make calls,” Rey said, stumbling a little over the words in her haste to come up with an excuse. Meanwhile, Hux seemed too stunned to react, like he wasn’t sure if this was really happening. “And I didn’t want to interrupt your evening.”

“Interrupt? It was only dinner,” Leia said. “You think I’d want to miss the birth of my first grandchild?”

“Which might not happen for hours and hours—”

“Well, I’m here now,” Leia went on. Then she turned to Hux. “How are things coming along?”

 

***

 

Initially, Rey thought it was probably good that Leia was here: She’d done this before. She knew what to expect. She was endlessly calm under pressure.

And indeed, Leia had plenty of advice, from how often Hux should empty his bladder, to which labor positions would open his pelvis and help the baby descend. (She kept pointing out the squat bar and rubber birth ball available in the room; he kept pretending not to hear her, while he paced around between contractions.) Hux became more snappish over time, the pain making him irritable. When Rey offered to rub his back, he refused to let her touch him, insisting that he didn’t need her help.

“It’s a shame Ben isn’t here,” Leia commented at one point, with a sigh.

Hux was in the middle of a contraction at the time, leaning against the bed, obviously struggling not to make too much noise. “My husband isn’t here,” he managed, through his teeth, “because your husband is a no-good pirate who can’t go a week without getting frozen in carbonite!”

Leia’s eyebrows arched slightly. “I know that’s the pain talking, not you,” she said. “When are you going to ask for the epidural?”

“I’m not,” Hux said wearily.

“He wants to have an unmedicated birth,” Rey chimed in, wanting to be helpful. She’d read the birth plan four times by now.

“There’s no prize for suffering when you don’t have to,” Leia said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Getting pain relief doesn’t make you weak.”

Hux’s jaw was clenched, either from pain or frustration. “I want to be able to walk around under my own power,” he said tightly. “That’s all there is to it.”

He wasn’t comfortable laboring in front of Leia, Rey realized eventually. When she reached out with the Force, sensing the edges of his feelings, she felt confident that she was right: He didn’t want her to see him like this, engaged in such an undignified and frankly intimate process. Putting on a brave face for Leia was hindering his ability to do what his body told him to do. But he was also too proud to tell her to leave—to him, it would be like admitting defeat.

Eventually, it was time for another exam. The doctor gently but firmly guided Rey and Leia out of the room before attending to Hux; by the time they were allowed back in, the doctor was explaining that Hux had not dilated further since his last exam when he arrived at the medcenter. She called it “failure to progress” and suggested that an oxytocin drip might get things moving.

Hux was shaking his head resolutely. “I want to give it more time,” he said.

“You’ve been in labor for ten hours already,” Leia pointed out. She turned to the doctor. “At what point would you recommend a C-section?”

“Highly variable,” the doctor said, while Hux noticeably bristled at Leia’s question. “If labor continues to stall, it may become necessary—but at the moment, baby’s not distressed and membranes are intact. We can wait a few hours and reassess based on any changes.”

When the doctor had gone, Leia sighed through her nose. “You really should reconsider the epidural,” she said. “It’ll help you relax and get things going again.”

“He has a thing,” Rey felt obligated to say, so Hux wouldn’t have to. That was what Hux had told her, when she asked why he didn’t want any medicated pain relief. “A needle thing. He doesn’t like them jammed into his spine. Also, the paralysis.”

“I see…” Leia’s tone suggested she thought that was irrational. “Well, you may change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Hux said darkly.

“Don’t be too proud to do what’s best for your baby,” Leia advised. “Some people aren’t able to give birth unmedicated, or without help. There’s no shame in it.”

They were rescued when Leia’s comm chimed, and she stepped out of the room to take the call—someone from the senate, apparently.

“This is a nightmare,” Hux said, once she was gone. “I mean it. I’ve had actual nightmares about this.”

“About what?”

“My karking mother-in-law watching me shit myself while I push the baby out,” he said, voice jumping an octave, edging closer to panic. “She’s not supposed to be here—Ben warned me that she’d be like this. We weren’t going to tell her anything until it was over and done with.”

“Well, she’s here now,” Rey said with a sigh. Ben would’ve been able to keep Leia out of the room, probably, if that was what Hux wanted. However, Rey was pretty sure she lacked the authority to tell her mother where to be, especially in a time like this. “You need to relax. I know, I know—easier said than done. But you really are too tense.”

“I don’t know how anyone can relax in a place like this,” he said darkly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

Rey studied him for a moment. “Do you not like medcenters, Armie?”

He stiffened, defensively. “Nobody likes them,” he said.

“Well, no,” she allowed. “But you’ve seemed a little… on edge since we got here. And you didn’t want to come in the first place.”

“No, I didn’t! I never did. I wanted to have the baby at home with a midwife,” Hux complained, and as he spoke, Rey could sense it: a spiking anxiety that throbbed along with his heart. He was afraid of medcenters; perhaps he’d had a bad experience when he was younger. Ben would’ve known this, but Rey had no clue until now. She’d missed it. “But your brother wouldn’t let me, because he’s a coward. Now look where we are. It’s already going sideways.”

“Armie…”

“I’m going to need surgery. They’re going to slice me open and pull out my intestines and put them in a bowl—”

“That can’t possibly be right,” Rey said, hoping against hope that he was just badly misinformed. Regardless, the fear that pulsed through him was real: She could still feel it. The more anxious he felt, the more tense he became; the more tense he became, the more likely he was to need an operation to deliver the baby—which only made him more anxious. It was a vicious circle. Suddenly, Rey stood. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m going to fix it.”

He looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and hurried out of the room.

For the umpteenth time, Rey wished that Ben were here to handle this. Presumably, he knew what to do with Hux: how to comfort him and assuage his anxiety, how to coach him through contractions and encourage him in a way he would accept. Ben took a childbirth class, for crying out loud. He read actual books. All Rey had were a couple of articles and her terrible instincts.

She found Leia in the cafeteria, where she was just getting off the comlink. “Why don’t you sit down?” Rey asked, pointing to an empty table. “I was thinking we could take a little break together.”

“Oh, I’m all right, Rey. You take as long as you need—I’ll be with Hux.”

Rey suppressed a grimace. She’d wanted to take a delicate approach, but apparently Leia wasn’t going to give her that option. “Actually, Mom,” she said, touching Leia’s arm, which made her mother pause. “Maybe you should give Armie some space.”

“What do you mean, dear?”

“It’s just a lot of pressure, I think. You’re right there, waiting for him to have the baby, and it’s… gumming up the works.”

“Gumming up the works?” Leia pronounced each word delicately, eyebrows arched. “Is that a technical term?”

“You know what I mean. He’s under a lot of stress, since Ben’s not here.”

“Which is exactly why I should be with him.”

“He doesn’t know how to be in pain in front of you,” Rey said, a note of pleading in her voice. “Can’t you feel that? I can sense it from clear across the room. It’s like his whole body is clenching, instead of opening up. And I’m afraid he won’t be able to unclench with…” She gestured vaguely with her hands. “Well, with his mother-in-law staring at him.”

“That’s what he said?”

“He didn’t have to. We all know you two haven’t always seen eye to eye, and this is no different,” Rey said wearily. “Like the epidural thing. You wouldn’t badger him like that if Ben were here.”

In fact, Ben wouldn’t let Leia badger Hux at all, so Rey was beginning to feel that she shouldn’t allow it, either. It was strange to feel so protective of him all of a sudden. Normally Hux could hold his own with Leia, no problem; there was a steady push and pull between them. But tonight, he was frightened and in pain and needed someone to stick up for him. Leia meant well—she really did—but Hux would resent her later if this continued.

“I just want to help him get what he wants,” Rey went on.

Leia shook her head. “He doesn’t know what he wants,” she said, with exaggerated patience. “If he were thinking clearly, he would’ve had the epidural by now. He’s being stubborn.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t help when you say that to him—it just makes him dig his heels in. I think giving him some space would help.”

“So you’re staying?” The implication was clear: She couldn’t see why Hux would prefer to have his teenage sister-in-law at his side rather than his experienced mother-in-law. Honestly, Rey was still a little surprised that Hux had tolerated her this long. She supposed it had to do with how she mostly left him alone, waiting for him to tell her what he needed.

“Only if he wants me to. If I’m stressing him out, I’ll leave.” Rey really would step outside if he asked, though she only intended to go as far as the waiting room.

For a moment, Leia seemed to consider that. “Well,” she said at last, on an exhale, and Rey sensed that she was less offended and more hurt. But it was nothing that wouldn’t heal, likely once she saw the baby. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

“Please don’t say that. I know how much you care. Armie’s just really anxious—”

“No, no, it’s all right. I’d hate to be a stereotypical overbearing mother-in-law,” Leia said, sounding only slightly wounded. She drew herself up straighter, with dignity. “Just—keep me updated, if it’s not too stressful for you.”

Rey knew she’d be hearing about this for years. Decades, possibly. But the important thing was tonight. She had promised to take care of Hux.

She walked Leia to the lobby and said goodnight for now, promising to comm her if anything interesting happened, or if they needed her. Then she made another run to the cafeteria before heading back up to Hux’s room.

“Well, I may have permanently damaged my relationship with my mother,” Rey announced, as she ducked inside. She dimmed the lights as she passed the control switch; Leia had turned them up earlier. “But she’s gone home for the time being.”

Hux, who was leaning against the bed, looked unconvinced. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm. She wasn’t happy about it, though.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I told her nobody wants to have a baby with their mother-in-law looking at their bits,” Rey told him, which made him huff a laugh. “Oh, and then I found you some more food.”

He accepted the small container that she offered to him. “You got… sweet ice?”

“Yeah. They said you can have ice chips. I don’t see what the difference is.”

 

***

 

“Maybe you really should think about the epidural,” Rey implored, an hour later, as Hux panted and moaned through another contraction. He lay on his side in bed—a “gravity-neutral” position, whatever that meant—and Rey was dutifully supporting his upper leg, holding it up and slightly forward, so his knee was bent toward his chest. It was a little after five in the morning.

Sure enough, Hux had progressed rapidly once Leia was gone; he had reached seven centimeters, which the HoloNet claimed was the beginning of the most painful part of labor.

“Absolutely not,” he said, through his teeth.

“Haven’t you had enough of this?” She certainly had, and she was only watching. She’d tried to coach his breathing—Uncle Luke taught her many controlled breathing techniques over the years, to help with focus and meditation—but it didn’t seem to help him much.

“If this is too hard for you, then you can leave,” Hux snapped.

“All right, all right, sorry, I’m just trying to help.” Another contraction came and went, and suddenly Rey had an idea. “Armie, let’s do some meditation, like what I do with Luke.”

He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan. “You can’t be serious.”

“Just hear me out. I want you to close your eyes and go to your happy place.”

“My what?”

“Picture someplace peaceful—your favorite place in the galaxy, somewhere you feel safe. Can you do that?”

“For what purpose?”

“You’ll see. Just try.”

Somewhat grudgingly, he closed his eyes. She gave him a moment, then gently probed at the forefront of his mind with the Force. Immediately she encountered resistance, one that she couldn’t push past without hurting him.

“Rey,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

She shushed him gently. “Relax, it’s just me. I’m not going to hurt you. Keep visualizing, and let me in,” she said. Slowly, she sensed him beginning to yield. Reaching out cautiously with the Force again, she sensed the edges of his thoughts. A picture began to form, getting clearer by the moment. “That’s it, just like that. Breathe. I see it. I see the mountain…”

The mountain was covered in dense dark forest. It was raining, the sound as steady as a heartbeat, a kind of music. Rey was a little surprised that Hux’s mind had brought him here—but though these woods were dark and cold and rainy, it was undeniably peaceful, like a hidden world. He felt secure here, untouchable, surrounded by growing things. Maybe it was a place he’d visited as a child. A place where he’d been happy.

“Is it Arkanis?” she asked softly.

He made a sound that she interpreted as confirmation.

Rey settled into Hux’s mental landscape—and then, little by little, she used the Force to make it more real for him. She drew upon his memories and fed them back to him: the smell of trees and damp earth. The cool wind against his face. The drumming of rain in the branches and sweet strange birdsong. Steeping himself in the sensations of another place helped distract him from this one.

Before long, he tensed with another contraction, and Rey tried to blunt the pain. The only way to do it was to take a little for herself, to open up to it and let it in: a rhythmic tightening in her belly—like menstrual cramps, but much more intense—and a steady hot pain radiating through her lower back. Though she wasn’t feeling the full force of it, the pain made her eyes water and her jaw clench. The contraction built to a peak, and then eased off, allowing her to breathe a sigh of relief.

Hux looked at her with dark eyes. “Don’t do that again,” he said. “Whatever you just did, with the pain—”

“It helped, didn’t it?” She was still a little breathless from it, honestly. If she were Hux, she would’ve demanded an epidural hours ago.

“Yes, but it’s not yours to bear. I don’t want you hurting yourself on my account—”

“But—”

“Rey! I said no.” He spoke sharply enough to make her wince. Then he sighed, looking at her sidelong, and his voice softened a little. “The thing you did before that—the mountain. Can you do that again?”

“Yeah,” she said, eager to help in whatever way he would accept. “Yeah, of course. Here, close your eyes again…”

 

***

 

Around seven in the morning, Hux’s water broke as Rey was helping him out of bed to use the toilet. He stood, and there was a sudden wet sound, like water pouring from a jug. Hux realized what had happened a second before Rey did; his face went white, and then splotchy with embarrassment.

There was considerably more water than Rey had expected—it spattered all over her shoes, unpleasantly warm. She just took a calming breath and walked him to the ‘fresher. Then she slipped off her wet shoes with a grimace and begged a pair of rubber-soled slippers from a nurse.

 

***

 

Eight o’clock found Hux on his hands and knees in bed, modesty forgotten as the contractions rolled together, one after another, with barely a break in between. He was sweating and shaking, rocking a little in place, though Rey couldn’t tell if that movement was making the pain easier to manage. Meditation wasn’t helping anymore. He radiated pain.

The midwife—a middle-aged human woman called Valis, who had a reassuring face and a calm demeanor—said this was normal. In fact, it meant the baby would be here soon. But Rey hated to see Hux suffer like this, and later he would probably regret allowing her to see him in such a vulnerable state. For now, though, he was willing to accept her support. He needed it.

“I can’t do this,” Hux was saying, breathless and exhausted. His eyes were screwed shut, his whole body clenched in anticipation of another contraction. Fear of pain made him tense, which only made the actual sensation worse when it came. “I can’t, it hurts too much—”

“You can,” Rey said, in what she hoped was an encouraging tone. She was rubbing his back, the way the midwife showed her earlier. It seemed to help a little. “You’ve been doing it for hours, and you’re nearly done.”

“Stars, I want Ben.” His voice was miserable.

Rey grimaced in sympathy. “Of course you do.”

“So I can kill him,” Hux went on.

She nodded gravely and kept massaging his back. “I understand,” she said. “But it won’t be long now, I promise…”

 

***

 

Somehow—Rey wasn’t sure, it was all blurring together in her mind—Hux had gotten back into a seated position, upright in the bed. For the last hour or so, he’d been restless, moving as his body told him to move. He shifted now, obviously uncomfortable, and Rey sensed that something had changed.

“All right there?” she asked.

“Yes. I just…” He looked oddly disoriented. “I think I need to use the ‘fresher.”

A light switched on in Rey’s mind, and she gasped. “Oh! Wait, I’ve read about this,” she said quickly. It was in one of the articles Finn sent her, which she’d read hours ago, when the labor was less intense and Hux didn’t need her immediate attention. “That’s the baby.”

“What?”

“The pressure you’re feeling, that’s probably the baby! Don’t do anything, I’ll grab the midwife—”

Hux started to protest, but Rey bounced up and hurried out into the corridor.

A minute later, she returned with Valis, the midwife, who wasted no time in examining Hux again. She checked between his legs, and whatever she saw made her look up with an encouraging smile. Then she called for a droid.

Several things happened quickly after that: The droid adjusted the bed so that Hux was seated against the lower edge and supported by the back, semireclining; then it unfolded a set of padded stirrups and guided his legs up into them. The flimsy blue medical gown was rucked up around his thighs. Valis sat on a stool between his legs and pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. Rey, unsure of what to do at this point, hovered anxiously at Hux’s side.

“All right,” Valis said to Hux, who looked suddenly frightened. Rey thought she knew why: After so many hours of waiting, the baby was coming now, and somehow it felt much too soon. He wasn’t ready. “When you feel the urge, I want you to push.”

Hux started shaking his head. “I can’t,” he babbled. Reaching out with the Force, Rey sensed his spiking panic, his slamming pulse. “I really can’t, I need Ben—”

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Rey said, with more confidence than she felt. Unless he miraculously walked through the door now, Ben would miss the birth. He might not come home for days. That thought wouldn’t help them get through the current situation, though. She grabbed Hux’s hand, and to her surprise, he squeezed back, hard. “But in the meantime, you’ve got to push. Okay?”

He dropped his head back, breathing hard through his nose. But he held onto Rey’s hand—and when the next contraction came, he pushed with it.

Rey tried to encourage him, the way she’d read on the HoloNet. “You’re doing really well, Armie,” she said at one point, when he’d been at it for some minutes. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Oh, shut up,” he said raggedly. He was red-faced, shiny with sweat. “And stop calling me Armie. Nobody calls me that!”

Rey tried not to take it personally.

Hux panted and struggled and pushed for nearly an hour, making noises that Rey had never heard a human make, until the midwife announced that the baby was beginning to crown. At that point, Rey’s curiosity got the better of her, and she edged forward, craning her neck, still gripping Hux’s hand.

Her mouth dropped open in shock when she glimpsed the top of the baby’s head between Hux’s thighs: wet and dark. “Oh, wow, she’s got a lot of hair!” she reported.

“Stop looking,” Hux snapped.

Rey pretended not to hear him. After another big push, the midwife helped to ease the baby’s head out the rest of the way. That part was bloodier than Rey had expected. Valis felt around the baby’s neck for the umbilical cord, but luckily, it wasn’t there.

“She’s got Ben’s ears for sure,” Rey said, fascinated, while Hux grunted and moaned. Part of her wished she could take a holo, so Ben could see later.

“You’re nearly done,” Valis said, in a calm and steady voice. “A few more pushes, and you’ll meet your baby.”

The midwife’s words seemed to encourage Hux a lot more than Rey’s did. He continued to push, chin tucked against his chest, gripping Rey’s hand hard enough to bruise. He curled forward around his belly.

It seemed impossible for an entire baby to come out of an opening that small—and yet, she saw Hux’s body stretch to accommodate his child, little by little. Maybe this was what people meant when they referred to “the miracle of birth.” Rey had never understood it before now. The sight was messy and somewhat terrifying, but also astonishing.

Suddenly Hux gave a tremendous push; he cried out as the baby’s shoulders passed, and then her whole body slipped into the midwife’s hands. She was chubby and gray-tinged, covered in blood.

It happened so quickly that Rey couldn’t react for a second; she was shocked. The baby coughed wetly, and then she cried, and then Valis was saying, “A girl! You have a little girl!”

Immediately Valis lifted the baby and placed her on Hux’s chest. His hands came up automatically, holding the baby in place, but he looked stunned, like he hadn’t fully registered what had just happened. Then, as his daughter wailed louder, it seemed to click. He fumbled to pull the gown aside, one-handed, so he could lay the baby against his bare chest; Valis stepped over to help him, wiping off some of the blood and fluid with a cloth.

“Oh, Armie,” Rey breathed, overwhelmed. She stood beside the bed, watching him kiss the top of the baby’s head, careless of the mess. Already she was pinking up. “Look at her, you did it, she’s perfect…”

Rey had never seen Hux cry before, and never expected to—but he cried now, as he cradled his daughter against his chest, sobbing into her wispy dark hair.

It was half past nine in the morning.

 

***

 

Rey lingered for a while, admiring the baby in Hux’s arms, but eventually stepped out of the room to give him some alone time to bond with his daughter. Though she was exhausted, she also felt too excited to sleep, almost giddy. She sent Ben a quick message in the corridor, letting him know that Hux and the baby were both doing well, and then commed Finn on her way to the cafeteria. By now, it was nighttime on Naboo, and Finn couldn’t stay on for long; she promised to talk to him again later, when her brain wasn’t so fried from sleeplessness.

When she returned to the birthing suite, a droid was instructing Hux on how to nurse the baby. Rey was a little surprised to realize that Hux intended to breastfeed; with his hectic schedule, formula-feeding seemed like it would be more convenient for him. But he calmly pulled the gown aside and got the baby settled at his small breast. While he got her to latch onto his nipple, Rey made a show of checking her comlink for messages, to give him a little privacy.

Eventually the droid rolled out of the room, and Rey went to sit beside the bed. “I got you some food,” she said, offering Hux a muja muffin. She had a few other packaged snacks stowed in her bag, but presumably, they would be able to order a proper meal for Hux to eat now. “Thought you might be hungry, after all that.”

He didn’t hesitated to accept the muffin. “Starving, actually.”

“So… do you really want me to stop calling you Armie?” Rey asked after a while, softly, so as not to disturb the baby.

“What are you talking about?”

“Earlier, you told me not to call you that.”

He glanced up with a frown. “When?”

“While you were pushing.”

“While I…” He stared at her for a second. “Rey, I was pushing a ten-pound baby out of my body. I don’t know what I said. You can’t possibly hold me to it.”

“But you were right,” Rey said. “Nobody else calls you that. Just me.”

Hux didn’t say anything for a minute. “My mother used to call me Armie,” he admitted at last. “She was the only one. After she died, nobody else knew me by that name. Hux, mostly. Armitage, sometimes. But not Armie—that was a child’s nickname.” He glanced at Rey. “You were a child when we met, though. If that’s what you wanted to call me, I didn’t mind.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, though.”

“No. But I think it would feel strange if you suddenly started calling me Hux,” he said, with a small smile. “Armie will do.”

A little later, Rey got to hold the baby while a droid helped Hux into the ‘fresher for a shower. When he eased the baby into her arms—carefully, both of them scared of dropping or jostling her—Rey was surprised by how hefty she was. The baby was bigger than Rey had imagined, chubby and quite long. But then, Ben and Hux were both tall, and Ben in particular was enormous. It made sense that they would make big babies.

“Stars, look at you,” Rey said, settling on the sofa with the drowsing baby in her lap. She had the softest dark hair and surprisingly big ears. “You look just like your dad. He’s going to be so happy to meet you.”

Hux emerged from the ‘fresher looking more awake, and wearing his own clothes, which were probably more comfortable than the thin, scratchy medial gown. After he was settled in bed, Rey carried the baby over him.

“I can hold her, if you want to get some sleep,” Rey said. She really hoped he said yes.

He shook his head. “In a little while. I’ll feed her again first,” he said, adjusting the baby in his arms. Then he opened his shirt again and offered his small breast.

Once was the baby was contentedly nursing, Rey sat beside the bed. “So how does it feel to be a dad?” she asked quietly, not wanting to startle the baby. “Is it like you imagined?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “Honestly, I tried not to imagine it too much—I never really thought I’d get here.”

“Why not?”

For a while, Hux didn’t answer, just studied his daughter’s face. “We tried for years, with no luck,” he said at last. “I miscarried three times. We’d just about given up when this one came along.”

“Oh,” Rey said, feeling stupid and insensitive. No wonder they’d waited so long to announce the pregnancy. No wonder Hux adhered so closely to his homeworld’s customs—he didn’t want to risk any bad luck, after three losses. And no wonder he’d demurred yesterday when Rey pointed out how long he and Ben had waited to have a baby. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything—”

He shook his head. “You didn’t know. And it doesn’t matter now.”

Hux slept for a while after feeding the baby. Rey was all too happy to watch her niece again; the baby was full and sleepy, content to be held. It helped that Rey could project calm feelings through the Force, which helped to put the baby at ease. While she was at it, Rey also took the opportunity to record a few holos—it seemed like a good idea to document these early hours. Ben would probably like to see them later.

In the afternoon, while Hux was minding the baby and Rey was halfway done with the breadroot patties she’d ordered (sitting around like this was hungrier work than she’d anticipated), there was a commotion in the hall: footsteps, multiple voices all speaking over one another.

“We’re heading the wrong way,” came a familiar male voice. “I’m telling you, they said the room was on the other side of the ward—”

Someone else scoffed. “Feel free to leave, then. I’m not taking directions from a moof-milker like you—”

“Since when do you talk to your old man like that?”

“Since you made me miss the birth of my first child!”

“That’s a little unfair—”

A gurgling roar cut off the person speaking.

“Calm down, all three of you,” said a woman. “This is the one.”

Suddenly the suite’s door hissed open, and Ben, Han, Leia and Chewbacca all attempted to cram themselves through it at once, still bickering. The noise startled the baby, who scrunched up her face and began to wail. That was enough to stop all conversation in surprise.

When Ben managed to push his way into the room, he looked right past Rey, to where Hux sat on the bed with a screaming, dark-haired bundle in his arms. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the window, falling across the bed in narrow golden bars. For a second, he and Hux just stared at each other, before Ben rushed over to him.

As he shifted the baby in his arms, Rey heard Hux murmur, “Shh, darling, you’re all right, it’s just your father…”

Ben had climbed onto the bed with Hux, practically curled around his husband and still-wailing daughter. He was babbling, stumbling over his words, barely able to complete one thought before he went rushing into the next: “I came as fast as I could—oh, stars, she’s beautiful, look at her—Hux, are you okay? Did it go all right? How do you feel?”

“I’m perfectly all right, you can stop blubbering—”

Ben leaned in to kiss Hux, and then the baby, who was beginning to quiet—soothed, perhaps, by Ben’s presence. He was radiating happiness and affection; Rey could sense it clear across the room. “I really wanted to be here,” he said, his face tipped toward Hux, close enough to kiss him again.

“I know.” Hux stared at Ben in a consuming way, his eyes shiny. They were doing that thing again, where they acted like nobody else in the galaxy existed. It was less revolting to Rey than it used to be.

“Well, it looks like you managed just fine without  me,” Leia said to Rey, in a low voice. She smiled gently, to soften her words.

“Of course she did. She’s a Solo,” Han said, clapping her on the back. Chewie rumbled, and he clarified: “Well, Organa-Solo.”

“Speaking of, what happened to you?” Rey asked. “I can’t believe Ben and Chewie had to save your skin again—”

“Let’s discuss it later. Outside,” Leia said, before Han could launch into the tale. “I think we’ve got something a little more important to talk about right now.”

The four of them looked to where Ben and Hux were whispering together, over their daughter’s soft dark head. Hux had passed their daughter to Ben; she looked so tiny cradled carefully in his big hands.

“So,” Rey said with a smile. “You’re definitely going to name her after me, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> I think Rey will make a great aunt.
> 
> thanks for reading! feel free to visit me [on tumblr](http://gonna-pop.tumblr.com). please note that my usual content is generally much grosser and kinkier than this (definitely not everyone’s cup of tea), and that my blog is strictly for people who are 18 and older.


End file.
